Old man walks to
a familiar place with
hand on a park bench
he lowers himself to rest.
He cups a flame,
cigar smoke
rises to his hats brim,
curls upward and over.
The grackels,
scampering feet
scurry over scraps
nothing wasted.
He watches as an orange sun rests,
contented, the old man rises.
Another day in paradise.
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| Image by prostooleh on Freepik |
